A Tearful Violinist
by BlueIce RedFire
Summary: a sob story about a tearful aspiring violinist.


**a tearful violinist**

The first violin Brady got as a kid didn't even last an hour before he accidentally tore the strings and dented the wood when he tripped down the stairs with it, sustaining a permanent scar over his eye. His mother insisted on throwing it out, but once the crappy broken piece of wood was in the bin, Brady wouldn't stop wailing for days.

Eventually she bought him a second violin that was much too big for him, and therefore he couldn't play. Since then, he'd tried growing everyday so he could one day get to play the too big violin for himself.

He took violin classes ever since he could pretty much start using his hands. The cheap ones he learnt with couldn't hold a candle to the smooth wooden violin that was just too big for him still. He continued to learn to play nonetheless, and gradually improved with his skills.

The only problem was the notes he played. Brady's violin skills were great, but the music he produced from it was so horrifying that it was strangely moving. He could remember the look on his grandfather's face when he played for him the first time, and when he told his mother he never wanted to hear Brady play the violin again.

Brady moped for days. Even his childhood best friend, Owain couldn't brighten his mood.

Cut to a few years later when Brady first entered middle school, he'd finally grown enough to use the violin his mother got for him all those years ago. Yet, he never actually played it, only held it in his grasp and then later cry because he finally was big enough to use it.

He practiced with the cheaper, lesser sentimental violin that Owain got for him on his birthday. He practiced every day to try and make the music he made sound less like an incoming horror film, and more like a beautiful happy masterpiece that would make people smile and applaud at the end of his performances.

Unfortunately his teacher would never offer him a solo performance.

"Surely you're not that bad," Severa mentioned one day, as she stood in front of Brady's closet door mirrors, fixing her hair up and trying on a bunch of clothes she had made him buy for her. "I've heard a lot violins before, and they don't sound scary at all. You're just exaggerating."

Though Brady had lived majority of his life believing that what he said was true, he felt optimistic and hopefully at Severa's words and had offered to play a piece for her. She accepted, of course, being the good friend she was, and sat on his bed as he stood in front of her with his violin ready to be played.

She later left his room crying with a look of distress on her face. And just like that, Brady had fallen back down into the self-worthlessness he'd created for himself. He cried himself to sleep that night, and cried harder when he realised she left all her stuff in his room.

The only people who continued to be encouraging and supportive towards him and his violinist abilities was his mother and his best friend. Every time he felt down about him and his abilities, they were there to pick him back up and bring a smile to his face.

Somehow, right on his last year of high school, Brady had gotten himself a solo performance to play in front of the entire school. It had been one of the best moments of his life, and he and his mother cried in joy when they found out. When Owain came over, he too celebrated this achievement while Brady cried into his bed.

Even after weeks and weeks of preparing and practicing, Brady would always find himself at the end of the night crying into a pillow over how happy he was. He even slept over with Owain one night and kept Owain and his mother up all night thinking there was something wrong by how much he sobbed.

Now came the day of the performance, and once again Brady was found by his mother crying into his bed.

"If you keep crying, Brady darling, you'll miss the performance," Maribelle told her son as she sat on the edge of his bed, gently stroking her son's hair as he cried into his pillow. "Your father is waiting for us downstairs."

Brady sniffed and lifted his head up off the bed to look at his mother. "But Ma, I'm jus' so happy!"

"Yes, but please, dear. I picked out a lovely suit for you to wear down to the school. And Owain's also waiting for you downstairs," Maribelle told him. Brady blinked and began crying again, stuffing his head into his cushions again. Maribelle's face went red. "Christ, Brady! We don't have time for this!"

As Maribelle worked on trying to pull Brady off of his bed, Owain stuck his head through the doorway and smiled brightly. "There's the hero of the violin!"

Both mother and son suddenly shot up to stare at the boy in the doorway and awkwardly hopped off the bed. Maribelle brushed down her dress and turned to her son, planting a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Go get changed, dear. I'll be waiting downstairs."

She swiftly left his room, and Owain rushed up to his best friend and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Aren't you excited, Brady? You're gonna blow them all away with your skills!"

Brady nodded his head as he wiped his eyes on his sleeves. "I'm jus' so happy," he repeated.

Owain helped Brady get into his suit, which took a lot longer than it probably should have, since the suit Maribelle got for him was just a little too small, hugging him tightly around his chest and arms. As Owain was fixing Brady's tie, another head poked into the room.

Well, then it disappeared. But the person stormed right in and shoved a finger in Brady's face with an intense scowl. "Brady you better not mess this up for us!" Even Owain seemed confused.

"What d'you mean?" Brady asked, frowning.

Severa crossed her arms turning her head sharply to look at the mirror closet door. "We have a cheerleading routine right after your performance. And I swear to god, if you even think about sabotaging us, I will end you."

"S-Sabotage?" Brady stuttered. "I wouldn't ever!" He stepped forward as his face got heated. "C'mon, Sev! Don't make me out to be a bad person like that!"

Severa turned back to look at him, still keeping her stern and serious expression. "Whatever, just try not to screw up? If I get on stage to a bunch of people who are completely wrecked by whatever you're playing on your creepy instrument, I will destroy you."

Her arms fell to her sides and she stepped forward abruptly to wrap her arms around Brady's neck, and nuzzled her head into his shoulder, latching onto him tightly. Brady was at shock unsure whether or not to reciprocate the hug.

"I love you, Brady. You're my best friend," she said softly, and it was slightly difficult to hear as it was muffled into his suit. "You're good at what you do, and everyone will love it. Just…remain calm, please?" Brady was at a lost for what to say.

Then again, she planted her hands on his chest and shoved him back, looking over to Owain. "Take care." Severa looked back at Brady. "Both of you."

"Good luck with your routine!" Owain exclaimed happily, pumping an enthusiastic thumbs up at her. Severa smiled at him, and nodded her head. She looked to Brady once more, giving him a double thumbs up and span on her heels. She quickly paced away from his room, and left the two still dazed as to what just happened.

Owain turned to Brady and chuckled softly. "She's excited, huh?"

Brady didn't know what to say so he nodded, and wiped his eyes again. He looked at himself in the mirror and his eyes immediately centred over the scar on his eye. He subconsciously reached up to touch it but stopped himself.

He didn't move until he felt Owain latch onto his arm, and pull him towards the door. "Let's hurry, Brady!" Brady nodded his head, and followed Owain down the stairs where they immediately headed off towards the school.

Backstage, Owain sat beside Brady as he anxiously awaited for his performance. His violin rested on his lap as he clenched the edge of the seat tightly, trying to rid himself of the feeling of dread.

Currently on stage was Cynthia's one woman improv show that was going incredibly well. People were laughing and enjoying themselves so much that deep down, Brady felt intimidated. He didn't know if he could put up a performance that could raise an already high bar.

"Owain…"

"You can do it," Owain said enthusiastically. "Just imagine everyone's in their underpants!"

Brady flinched. "I, uh, that's not what I was going to say." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, watching as Owain's smile turned to one of a frown.

"Oh."

"Yeah, um…" Now it had gotten unintentionally awkward. "I think I'm going to get ready." Brady stood up, but right as he did something unthinkable happened.

As he stood up, someone carrying a stage light had walked behind them, and the pole slammed into his head, sending him flying onto the ground. Owain jumped up surprised, as Brady frowned in pain, clutching the back of his head.

"Ouch…" he whimpered, already starting to tear up. Before he could however, he felt another sharp pain in his back and leant forward. When he did, Owain's eyes went wide with shock, and Brady froze. Something horrible must've happened. Hesitantly, he turned around to see what it was.

A crushed violin.

 _His_ crushed violin.

"Brady!" A familiar voice shrieked from further backstage, and the sound of stomping feet was quick to follow. Owain helped Brady to his feet and supportively tried to hold him up as Severa stood right in front of him, her head cocked up to glare right at him.

"You're such a clumsy mess tonight!" she snapped. "Don't you have a spare or something?"

Brady had already started to well up, and dabbed at his eye with the sleeve of his suit, shaking his head. This was the violin he'd been practicing with his entire life, he didn't have another one handy. How was it that everything had started to crumble the moment he was about to fulfil his dream of performing in front of a large crowd.

He zoned out as Severa continued to snap at him and Owain being as good as a friend as he could, and rubbing Brady's back as he hung his head low. A tear was already rolling down his cheek, and he made no effort to wipe it away. Maybe it was best if he just let them fall.

Cynthia's performance ended, meaning that right after the small interlude he was supposed to get on. But he didn't have an instrument to play, or any other talent to put to good use. His dreams were ruined, and Severa was going to be absolutely pissed for her own personal reason.

But suddenly, a miracle happened.

"Brady!" a _very_ familiar voice shrieked, and started running towards him. Brady looked up to see his mother, holding the violin she had bought for him all those years ago, raised in her hand as she ran past all the kids backstage.

Some poor teacher tried restraining her by putting an arm in front, but with her other hand she whipped her handbag in his face and jumped over him to reach her son. She stepped over the mess of a violin on the floor and thrust Severa to the side, before placing the violin into Brady's hands, along with the matching bow.

To say he was surprised was an understatement, but somehow his mother was able to save his day. And Maribelle wrapped her arms around her son, who was already a head taller than her, and cradled his head in her neck.

"I forgot to give this to you," she said, pulling him away. "You're playing with this tonight, no exceptions."

As it happened to be, she wasn't a psychic who knew of his broken violin.

Brady nodded his head, still stunned and speechless along with the rest of his friends as to what just happened. Maribelle quickly and easily composed herself, and brushed down her dress and fixed her hair. She grabbed his head again and planted a quick kiss on his forehead before turning away.

"Do your best, darling! We love you!" she waved, strutting past everyone as if nothing had happened. Right then too, the announcer had just began calling upon him. Severa was the first to respond, looking down at her feet before back up at Brady.

"Good luck," she said, starting to heat up. She went to say more, but decided against it and turned away, storming off to join her cheerleading friends.

Owain responded next, slinging an arm around his friend and pulling him to his side supportively. "Make the violin gods proud!" He gave Brady a pat on the back, which launched him forward towards the curtains as Cynthia was getting off.

She gave him a sweet smile as she walked past him, and (unbeknownst to Brady) slipped over the broken mess of his violin. And finally, Brady had snapped out of his daze and looked at the violin in his hand. The sentimental value it had to him was incredible. His first performance with it would be in front of a large crowd of people.

He inhaled deeply as the host called upon him. The crowd began welcoming him as he meekly appeared on stage, holding the violin tightly in his hand. He didn't have to speak into the microphone which was a plus, because he was almost certain he'd start crying for no apparent reason.

 _So many eyes…_

Brady rushed to the front of the stage, and set his chin on the chin rest. The bow was shaky in his hand, but he wasn't going to let that hinder him. He exhaled.

The hair touched the string, ready to play the first note.

And off he went, to play the piece he'd been so excited to present to the public. Almost immediately, he gained so much confidence in his ability, and moved the hair against the strings so effortless, producing melodic notes that echoed throughout the hall.

His eyes closed automatically, and all he could picture was the violin in his hands, and the positioning of his fingers on the strings. They moved so fast with the bow, each note coming out exactly how he wanted it. Each note put together to create a sound so close to his heart, one that he'd never been more proud to show.

For a moment he'd forgotten the crowd in front of him, the long haul of getting to where he was now and about all the people who helped him get to where he was. He was all alone in his own world, with only his prized violin, playing the most emotional piece of music he could imagine.

All the years of practice, and the tears he'd spent, they had lead up to this moment. And Brady had never been more proud to reach it.

The last note hung in the air for what felt like forever, and soon silence. All of his senses returned to him and Brady opened his eyes, to meet the hundreds of pairs in the crowd, all looking back at him. There was nothing but awe in their eyes, not the usual tears and fear that he was so used to.

His mother was the first to react. From all the way in the back of the hall, she stood up and clapped. Brady could clearly see the tears starting to fall from her eyes, streaming down her face in thick lines. Not soon after, other people followed her lead, all standing up to applaud him, with tears running down their faces with wide smiles on all of their faces.

The last person to cry was Brady himself, who couldn't help himself but tear up at the warmness that radiated all around him. Finally, a group of people who weren't horrified or put off by his violinist abilities. It made him feel so /happy/ inside.

He was the last to cry, but he had the loudest sobs of the entire hall.

And Brady had never been more accepting of that.

* * *

 ** _this is a (somewhat rushed, sorry about that) birthday one-shot for a good friend of mine, A Little Indifferent! I'm sorry for the quality of this one-shot, but I wanted to give you something that you might like. so, I hope you enjoy! C:_**

 ** _\- Blue_**


End file.
